Istanbul, Turkey, an antithesis of some of its recent unfortunate happenings, is a lovely mix of history and modernity, East and West as it straddles two continents, Asia, and Europe. Many a traveler and possibly including you have their own stories of Istanbul. This one is ours.
The year was 2003. I was doing my Physician J visa waiver in God’s country in Northern Wisconsin. Our family of four were visiting Lahore, Pakistan on Turkish Airline with a two-hour stopover in Istanbul.
During the flight, I remember the Turkish air hostesses coming to serve us and starting the conversation in Turkish. Awkwardly and more than once we had to remind them that we did not speak their language. It did give us a sense of belonging, though.
We landed at Ataturk International Airport. Our connection to Lahore was leaving in two hours. Or so we thought.
As I showed up at the check-in counter the lady looked at our still paper tickets in those days and gave us that look of, “what are you doing here moron.”
As it turned out our connection to Lahore which “yours truly” had booked was not in two hours but next day and in 26 hours. I had, one, booked us wrong, and two, not recognized my mistake till then.
It was right there, and then I realized that there was a good reason why, awkward, silly and embarrassed were conceived as words for the English language.
Once the reality sank in, I asked for our options. The flight to Lahore leaving in 2 hours was full. We were pointed towards the airport lounge, an open space with sofas, etc. where we were to spend the next 26 hours.
We tried. It was too dull, boring and duh. To compensate for my folly, I was going to try something different.
Three of us had Pakistani passports which made us ineligible for Turkish visas at the Airport. Only our daughter, then aged 6, was traveling on her American passport which for $100 could get a Turkish visa stamped, but we figured it was not a good idea at her age to be out in Istanbul by herself.
We asked for the supervisor office at the Airport and were shown to this set of rooms which staffed several people and with one more authoritative-looking man sitting behind a desk. Having introduced ourselves, I tried selling him our story and my mistake. I then made our plea.
Is there any way we can get out and spend a day in Istanbul?
There was some language barrier, but the officer, a no fuss, kind looking person, asked me to get a Turkish visa stamped on our daughter’s American passport. This I happily did, still not sure where it was all headed.
He then asked for all our Pakistani Passports and put them on a shelf in his office. He then showed us this door on the side and said, outside this door is Istanbul, see you tomorrow.
It was there, and then I realized that there was a good reason elated, liberated and wow were added to the English language as words.
And just like that, we stepped out to this beauty of a city called Istanbul. The next 24 hours we traveled, ate, shopped and celebrated this fun filled, unexpected visit to this world class city. No passports, no visas, no problems.
We soaked in the majesty of the blue mosque. We walked the brick-laden old city. We taxied around this city of rolling hills with mosques on top which are shown lights at night and look amazingly beautiful and we constantly amused ourselves with a lot of dizzying zeroes behind everything as the exchange rate of Lira to USD in those days was in millions.
And yes, we were again spoken to in Turkish a few more times which made us feel at home and well, somewhat Turkish, I guess.
As many of you can relate to, Istanbul, Turkey, remains a city, a country, a people par excellence. God willing, I would love to go back someday for my second visit. Meanwhile to the city which made us feel at home, I say, stay strong and in peace, Amen.